Thorn In Their Side
by Tahlia Malfoy
Summary: Caitlin Adams, an awkward seventeen year old girl, finds herself thrown into the historic world of the Patriot. How did she get there when moments before she had just been watching the movie with friends?
1. Chapter 1

_Dearest Readers,_

_I have written this fic purely for my enjoyment, and hopefully yours. This is the first of many chapters to come- it basically sets the scene and helps you get to know the main original character. Yes, I said those dreaded words, original character. Its ok, you can breath, she's not a Mary-Sue. Read on and you can judge for yourself ._

_I got the idea for this story while with friends (whom I have loosely based some of the characters in this story on.)_

_As we were watching The Patriot, we were discussing how great it would be if you could be sucked into the movie somehow. And that's when my brain started ticking._

_Constructive criticism is very much appreciated, but flames will generally be ignored. And not tolerated, might I add. I would really love some feedback- like it? Hate it? Love it? Loathe it? Please tell me_

_Disclaimer: Anything in this story that is from the movie: The Patriot: including character, setting, script are not mine. 'Nuff said._

**Chapter One**

"Hey Andy! Mel thinks you're hot!"

" Liz!"

"So how's about it Shona, you and me at Windy Point"

"Bite me Dan,"

"Alright, who put gum on my chair?"

It was last lesson on a warm day at Sheoaks High School. Having physics as final period on a Friday afternoon was just asking for trouble. The students generally paid little or no attention as they discussed the fast approaching weekend with much enthusiasm.

The teacher had given up trying to teach the boisterous bunch of students about relative errors and had retreated to his desk with a Reader's Digest magazine and an aspirin, pretty much allowing the students to do whatever they wanted- within reason.

Caitlin Adams, for instance, was balancing dangerously on two of her four chair legs and chewing on a large wad of gum, animatedly chattering about tonight's upcoming events.

"So, we're all at my house. Be there or be square," she flipped her spiky brown hair behind her shoulder and raised an eyebrow, daring her friends to object.

"It all depends Adams," Jodie said as she absently checked her red hair for split ends. Jodie, although seemingly nonchalant, was known for her fiery temper. To match her bright red hair.

"On what?"

"On if we are ordering pizza. And if so, what kind?" Molly Richards loved her food. Her nickname in the group of friends was Ronald, named after the famous fast-food restaurant character, Ronald McDonald.

"If were ordering pizza, please order a vegetarian one," Aimee Bartlett's nickname in the group was Sausage, as she was so against eating meat. Aimee was a stubborn individualist.

Altogether, the four girls couldn't be any different. Nevertheless, they had been best friends ever since Kindergarten and were hardly ever seen apart.

"Alright, pizza it is. May I suggest tonight's movie choice?" Caitlin sat forward on her chair so that the front two legs hit the floor with a loud thump. There was a custom. If they were going to be staying over at someone's house, they had to watch at least one movie. For perving value of course. And for discussion topics as they lay awake until the early hours of the morning.

"Tonight's selection will be The Patriot," the girls groaned in unison after hearing the film title.

"Not again," Molly rolled her eyes. Caitlin's two favourite things in life were history, and Jason Isaacs. The fact that this movie incorporated these two things was an added bonus. 'Act of God', as she liked to declare.

"We've seen that a million times already. What is it with you and Jason Isaacs? Or should I say, Colonel William Tavington," Jodie had moved from examining the ends of her hair; to pushing back the cuticles on her fingernails.

"Well…he's just so… EVIL," Caitlin sighed and stared off into space, her grey eyes glazed over dreamily. She was rudely dragged back into reality as Aimee snapped her fingers in her face.

"Come back Caity. Come back to us! I, of course, have no objection to the Patriot, as I am a Heath Ledger fancier myself. But I suggest that we also acquire perhaps one other movie so that everyone is satisfied. My choice is Pirates of the Caribbean," the group murmured in agreement. Caitlin could always rely on Aimee to settle any argument.

"I guess I could handle gazing at Orlando Bloom for an hour and a half," Jodie had relented as she normally did.

"Orli is just too beautiful for me. He has such perfect lips. Wasted on a man." Molly was a little sensitive about her thinner than average mouth. Yet somehow it suited her pale complexion and dark features.

"Yes, he is quite feminine isn't he? I've always thought so myself," Aimee commented pensively. The girls nodded their heads, all except Jodie who was fiercely loyal in her love for Orlando.

"If I was a gay man, I'd like to go out with Orlando. But as it were…"

"Caitlin, we've been through this. You will never be a gay man," Aimee patted her best friend's hand sympathetically. "Maybe in the year 2012,"

The bell rang loudly, causing the students to whoop loudly with joy and make a mad dash for the classroom door. The teacher yelled frantically after them.

"Make sure you read pages 25 to 50 in your text books!" the students weren't even listening, too caught up in their own excitement.

Caitlin and her friends were pelvic thrusting out of the school chanting "I'm too sexy for my shirt," where they received many stares from the public and twice as much irked remarks from the elderly, but nothing could dampen their spirits.

Sheoaks was your typical rural town. It held a general store, which sold everything from baked beans to fishing wire. One pizza place, a bakery, butcher, church and video store. And of course, the schools. The town wasn't much but it was enough. They grew up there and most of them would end up dying there.

After much pelvic thrusting and several incidents involving garbage bins, the girls finally made it to Caitlin's house in almost one piece. Or homestead, whichever way you wanted to look at it. It was several acres, big enough to hold horses, ponies and a few cows. Plus the adopted golden alpaca Stuart that Caitlin had begged her parents to buy.

The driveway was long. The girls barely noticed its length as they were singing the theme song for Dad's Army at the top of their voices. Caitlin stopped in her tracks and one by one the voices died down.

"What's wrong Cait?" Aimee asked, concern etched on her face.

"You look like you did the time when Matt Stewart defaced the Jason Isaacs poster in your locker," Jodie commented. Caitlin merely shook her head and pointed in front of her.

Stuart the lovable alpaca was currently in the front garden. Eating her mother's prize-winning roses.

"You guys have no idea how much shit I am in right now," Caitlin panted as she ran the rest of the way towards the house.

"Deep shit?" Molly offered. Choosing chose to ignore her, Caitlin managed to grab hold of Stuart and yanked his head up.

"How did you get out?" She led him away from the partly destroyed bushes with much resistance. He was till chewing part of the plant. Jodie tapped her distressed friend on the shoulder as she stopped to inspect the damage

"Um, Cait? You might want to see this,"

"What now?" Her favourite pony Jade was happily munching on the front lawn. "Of course," Caitlin muttered, "Partners in crime,"

Jade was a grumpy strawberry roan mare. Yet strangely, she had formed an alliance with the dim-witted alpaca. This wasn't the first time they had escaped their paddock.

"Come here Bonnie. Come join Clyde," Caitlin grabbed Jade by the mane before she got some sense and darted off. Just as she was doing so, the front door opened and her mother appeared.

"Darling! You're home now. Hello girls," she added to the other three whom were standing about, trying to look casual. She spotted the felons. "What are Stu and grouchy-pants doing out? They haven't eaten anything have they?"

"Well…" guiltily, she glanced at the roses. Her mother saw them and her face grew red.

"I see. That alpaca has to go." She ran a tried hand through her sandy blond hair.

"Mum! It's Stuey! He's so young and naive. Jade's the one that led him astray!" Caitlin knew that her mother had a soft spot for Jade. Everyone who met her did, even if she occasionally bit you.

"He's destroying everything in my garden! The apple trees, the gardenias, and your father's lettuces…" the list went on. "Are you listening to me Caitlin?"

"Yes mother," struggling with both Stuart and Jade, she fixed a pleading look on her mother. "Just give him a chance, please?"

Gail Adams threw her arms up in defeat.

"Alright then. But only one more chance. That's my final word," Caitlin would of hugged her, but given her current situation, she smiled greatfully at her mother instead.

"Thanks ma. So I guess I'd better put these two back then," the girls started to slink off.

"You're not getting away that easily my girl. I'm going out tonight with your father, so you'll have to baby-sit Georgia and David," Caitlin started to protest, bit her mother held up her finger, "If you want Stuart to stay you'll be baby-sitting tonight. Understood?" she nodded sullenly as Gail pecked her on the cheek. "I'm off now dears. I'm going to see a man about a horse."

"Very funny mum,"

"No really, I'm thinking about buying this one. Chestnut bay pony, his name is Alfie. Wonderful temperament. He'll be perfect for the school," when she wasn't gardening, Gail was a riding instructor. "I've left a lasagna for the children, and there's money for pizzas next to the phone. Have fun dears, don't burn the house down!" she called as the girls walked away to return Jade and Stuart to their paddock.

"Jeez, that was one time! She always brings that up," Caitlin complained as she half walked, half dragged the two culprits. "Can someone give me a hand here?"

"Well, we did almost burn down the kitchen the last time we made waffles," Aimee said as she took Stuart from her, rubbing his nose affectionately. Caitlin picked up a riding helmet as they passed the back veranda and plonked it on her head.

"I'm gonna ride her back. You lot can fight over the trail bike amongst yourselves," she hopped onto Jade's bareback as Jodie and Molly immediately started fighting over the motorbike. Jodie won as she had a louder and bossier voice than Molly.

"Race ya," Jodie grinned as she revved the engine loudly. Caitlin couldn't resist a challenge. Especially from Jodie.

"Just don't get killed, okay?"

"Yes Sausage," Jodie put on the helmet that Molly handed her and flipped the visor down.

"On the count of three. One. Two. Three!" The words were barely out of Caitlin's mouth before Jodie took off, laughing madly as she did. "Bugger!"

Kicking Jade into a fast canter, she hurried to catch up. This wasn't hard as Jade loved to go fast, and soon they were galloping past Jodie whilst Caitlin blew a huge raspberry.

"Oh no you don't!" Jodie's muffled voice yelled from under her visor as the trail bike picked up speed. They were almost at Jade's paddock. A long fence blocked her way. The logical thing to do would be to turn left where the gate was open. But Caitlin didn't have a logical thought in her brain as she kicked Jade on and jumped the fence cleanly. Lucky Jade was an award-winning jumper.

Caitlin was off the horse and giving her an affectionate pat on the rump by the time Jodie reached the paddock.

"You cheated!" she accused as she took off the helmet.

"I didn't cheat. I merely found a shortcut,"

"That could have gotten you killed,"

"I knew Jade could make it, she's taken that fence before. Just don't let my mum know that,"

"I would have won if you hadn't cheated," Jodie sulked as she sat on the bike with one foot on the grass to steady it. Caitlin smiled at her.

"Of course you would have," They turned to the sound of approaching voices. Molly and Aimee were both trotting with Stuart and shouting at the same time, although their reactions were quite different.

"Bitchin! You totally rock dude!" that was Molly's feedback.

"I cannot believe that you would do something so stupid! Do you have a death wish? Do you even have a brain?" that was Aimee's opinion.

"Nope, hollow as a log," Caitlin tapped herself on the head to prove it. Snorting, she pointed at the expression on her best friend's face. "You better hope the wind doesn't change. Come on; let's head back. I'll even let you ride the trail bike,"

"No way, it's my turn now," Molly grabbed hold of the bike possessively. In the end, Molly got the bike while the rest of them skipped like schoolgirls all the way back. They had just reached the back porch when Caitlin's five-year-old sister Georgia burst from the screen door.

"I wanna play, I wanna play!" Caitlin covered her ears as the small blonde haired girl screeched.

"Steady Freddie. How much sugar have you had today?"

"This much!" she held her hands wide, then suddenly attached herself to Caitlin's legs like a limpet. "Can you play dress ups with me?" Caitlin forcedly prized her sister off.

"Sorry sweetie not right now. Why don't you go play with Bubble and Squeak?" referring to the pet guinea pigs. Georgia blinked before running off again making American Indian noises.

"Cute," Molly commented as they made their way into the kitchen.

"Weapon of mass destruction more like it," Caitlin went through the mail that lay on the worn, badly scratched table while Jodie took four glasses out of a cabinet. Aimee was taking a bottle of coke from the fridge.

"Bill. Bill. Catalogue. Bill. Coupon. Bill. Nothing for me," she took the drink that Jodie offered her.

"I'm starving. Anything to eat Caity?" Molly was always hungry.

"I think there's some Marshmallow Peeps in panty,"

"I said I was starving, not desperate,"

"Packet of Doritos then?" Aimee asked, swinging the pantry door lazily.

"That'll do," Molly ripped opened the packed and began chewing on cheesy corn chips hungrily. A small boy, around nine years old entered the kitchen.

"Hey there champ," Caitlin greeted her brother while ruffling his reddish-brown hair. David Adams was young male clone of Caitlin. They took after their father while Georgia favored her mother.

"Hi Davie," The other girls chorused.

"Hello," David was a shy boy and avoided the intimidating girls' eyes. "Can I watch TV Cait?" he asked timidly.

"Of course you can! Off you go! Dinner will be ready in one hour. Tell Georgie that!" she called to his retreating back. "That reminds me. We need to order the pizzas,"

After much squabbling, they finally agreed on a Vegetarian, Barbecue chicken and Cheese Lovers all with extra thick crusts. Jodie made the call while Caitlin took lasagna out of the fridge and put it in the oven.

The pizzas finally arrived an hour later. Caitlin was busily serving lasagna and salad to two very hungry and noisy children. (David had gotten over his initial shyness.) Aimee answered the door and paid the pizza boy (flirting outrageously as she did) while Jodie and Molly giggled from behind the front door. In what seemed like no time at all, the children had finished their dinner and the girls had gone through one box of pizza.

"May I be excused?" David was a wonderfully polite boy.

"You sure can. Remember, no sugar after seven-thirty and brush your teeth before you go to bed," David could be trusted to go to bed at a reasonable hour and not get into mischief. Georgia on the other hand had to be monitored at all times.

The girls then claimed the rumpus room. The room was excellent to hold sleepovers in as Caitlin's father had recently had it soundproofed. David was an aspiring drummer. Just not a very good one. And Georgia could scream as much as she liked down there. Right now the Caitlin was carrying the remaining boxes of pizzas while Molly carried the bottles of coke and cups. Jodie and Aimee were covering the floor with the many mattresses (although neither of them could resist a few gladiator type combats while they were at it.) The room was now their own, and no one would dare enter it during the length of the sleepover.

Molly made herself comfortable with the pizzas while the remaining girls squabbled over how the DVD player worked. Lets face it, females and technology do not mix. At last the DVD player burst to life admits cheers and warrior cries of joy. The girls snuggled down in their pajamas with blankets and pizza to enjoy The Patriot.

As the credits began to roll, Caitlin shushed everyone loudly.

"If anyone so much as –breaths- during Tavvy's scenes, I cannot be held responsible for my actions"

A large cushion was thoughtfully thrown in Caitlin's direction; she instinctively ducked. Aimee was doing Molly's nails- involving coral nail polish and copious amounts of stick on jewels. Caitlin was doing the twist to the opening music, conducted by Jodie on the giant mound of pillows.

Prancing over to the television screen, Caitlin licked the scripted words of 'Jason Isaacs'

"Nice Caitlin. I am now not going to forget the image of a short girl in pink singlet and tiny shorts licking a television,"

"Someday, Aimee, you'll look back on that image and think fondly of me,"

"I thought we said no talking?" Molly said thickly though a slice of cheese pizza.

"Exactly. So let us all shut up and enjoy the movie. That we have seen. For the fifty millionth time,"

"Lighten up Jodie," Caitlin tied her hair up with a fluffy blue scrunchy. "Hey get this dudes. Wouldn't it be Fab if, somehow, in some fifth element type of way, you were able to go into any movie of your choice?"

Her response was many blinks and vacant stares.

"You mean any movie? Even porno?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter Molly. Why would you want to join a porno? You're sick. I bet you sing on the toilet," Aimee finished the last nail with a flourish, and then was subsequently bashed on the side of her blonde, dreadlocked head.

"Seriously guys, I mean good quality movies. Like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings," Caitlin ticked them off on her fingers. "Even, dare I say it, The Patriot?"

Before the girls could even so much as groan their protests, the lights flickered. Not your normal type of electrical flickering, the wild and unexplained variety.

"Whoa, I do not like this," Jodie huddled further into her mound of pillows.

"Caity, what's wrong with your telly?" Aimee pointed to the television. The movie was playing just fine. Benjamin was trying out his homemade rocking chair, watched on by his youngest daughter. But the appliance was surrounded by a strange aura of grey light. Caitlin moved towards it slowly. As she did so, the light became brighter.

"Don't get too close Cait,"

"Relax Ronald, I'm trained in these sorts of situations" she raised a clenched fist and soundly whacked the top of the television. The lights stopped flickering and everything returned to normal. "See? What did I te-"

As she uttered those words the aura and flickering returned. Screaming, Caitlin turned to dash away from the TV, but was pulled back by an unseen force. Her friends watched, horrified, as Caitlin was pulled _inside _of the telly, as if being pulled into a black hole. The commotion stopped and everything went black.

_End chapter one! Please Review._

_Notes: Jade the pony is a real horse- and a real character. As is Alfie the school pony. Stuart is not a real alpaca, but is closely based on a donkey called Henry._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two 

"She is wearing the strangest underclothes I have ever seen,"

"Is she dead?"

"I don't think so. Look, I can see her breathing,"

"We'd better check. Just to make sure,"

Caitlin felt something sharp and pointy stab her in the side. Groaning, she rolled over and covered her face with her arm.

"Not now David," she murmured. "Did you open a window? Why is it so bright? And why is my mattress so prickly?"

"Umm…Miss? You're lying on the ground,"

Finally opening her eyes, Caitlin looked up and screamed. Two boys that she vaguely recognized were leaning over her as she lay on the ground, clad only in a white singlet and pink shorts. She drew her knees up to her chin and frantically backed away from them into a tree.

"Who the hell are you, and where the hell am I?" she demanded.

"Oh, I'm Thomas Martin, and this is My brother, Samuel," they both smiled and waved at her awkwardly.

"Wait, I know your faces," Caitlin peered at them intently for a moment before bursting into hysterical laughter. "WOW. Man, I really gotta stop eating pizza before bedtime. It gives me the weirdest dreams. I mean, here I am, Inside the Patriot. A fecking movie for Christ sake. Is Tavvy around? I always wondered how tight his breeches were up close,"

"I think you'd better do get father," Thomas said to Samuel. He nodded and ran off, leaving Thomas with an excitable Caitlin.

"Can I just say that you look _much _better in the flesh than you do on screen Thomas my good man," he looked flattered for a moment before realizing that a) he had no idea what she was saying, and b) she was a raving lunatic.

"Err… Thankyou?"

There came the sound of pounding feet in the distance and Thomas sighed with relied. "That'll be my father now. Thank God,"

A tall, tanned man in beige breeches and a white shirt was running towards them, along with Samuel who was carrying a small wicker basket. They reached Caitlin, the man kneeling before her with the basket and Samuel standing a safe distance away with Thomas.

"Wait a minute...you're-"

"Benjamin Martin," he cut in, checking her pulse with her wrist.

"No you're not. You're Mel Gibson," Looking at her strangely, he dabbed at a cut on her forehead with a bud of cotton wool.

'He has very nice blue eyes,' Caitlin thought whilst smiling serenely.

"The boys tell me that they found you unconscious here. You must have hit your head pretty hard as you fell. Can you remember anything of the incident?" His quiet voice was brisk and to the point, just like she remembered from the movie.

"Well. I remember there being a lot of stick on jewels. Oh! And cheese pizza!"

"Hmm, worse than I suspected. The house is not far away. I'm sure you're feeling a little muddled and confused from your fall. Nothing bed rest and a drop of brandy won't cure,"

She decided to go along with the temporary brain damage. The fewer questions asked about where she came from, the better. And it couldn't hurt to fake a little amnesia while she was at it. It was only a dream, and in the meantime she would just play along until she finally woke up. Benjamin helped her to her feet and they made their way towards the house. The house was large and two story; typical colonial plantation style of the time. Chickens were scratching at the dirt by the front porch, stalked by the resident calico cat. As they were a few hundred meters away from the house, something both large and destructive burst from the front door. Caitlin caught a glimpse of crisp white apron and dark skin before she was enveloped in a huge bear hug.

"Oh the dear angel! Benjamin! You should have come to me first, look at the poor darlin', all bruises and scratches, skin and bone. And what is she wearing? Poor kitten must have been robbed and ravaged by filthy men! She must get inside, have a bath! She needs clean clothes and food! Yes, lots of food! This one need fattening up!"

"Abigale please, she's suffocating,"

Caitlin was released, panting for air. Abigail took the gasping girl by the shoulders and marched her into the house. Immediately, boys and girls of various shapes and sizes crowded around her, each wanting to know where she was from. Small hands came forward to touch her, as if she were some sort of mystical creature.

"It's just me," She wanted to tell them, but remained silent.

"Children," Benjamin warned, and they backed off instantly. Caitlin was led past various rooms- one of which delicious smells wafted from it and up a creaky wooden staircase into what was obviously the guestroom. High, four-posted bead with floral bedspread, cherry wood cabinets and dressing table, and delicate white muslin curtains that fluttered in the slight breeze. It was all very lovely and charming. Abigale left Caitlin admiring the room and returned with several dark skinned young men carrying a hip bath and jugs of steaming hot water. They placed the hip bath onto the floor, and efficiently poured the jugs of hot water into it. Bowing slightly, they left the room as quietly as they had entered, leaving her alone with the maid Abigale.

"Ok darlin' lets get you washed," she indicated that Caitlin should remove her garments. Hesitating, Caitlin pawed at her knotted hair. Her own mother never saw her undress anymore, let alone a complete stranger. "Come now, we don't have all afternoon,"

Sighing, Caitlin submitted herself to the fact that this was the maid's job, and she had nothing that the blustery woman hadn't seen before. She would have made the Guinness Book of Records for the quickest time to remove one's clothing and climb into a hip flask. Once in, she was scrubbed until she could be scrubbed no more, her skin a subtle shade of pink. She had to admit that all of this pampering felt kind of nice. Abigale dried her with a fluffy white towel, prattling away as she did so.

"How old are you missy?"

"I'm seventeen,"

"You'll be married or betrothed I presume," Caitlin nearly swallowed the towel being used to dry her hair.

"I'm afraid not," she managed to choke out. Abigale paused in her vigorous drying.

"Seventeen and not married? Your mother must despair of you!"

"Well…she does despair of me I guess…" It was kind of the truth. Abigale left Caitlin wrapped in towels and moved over to the bed where clothing lay draped over the bedspread. Caitlin found the white undergarments quite amusing, but her good mood soon dropped as she caught sight of the corset.

"Oh no. No no no," Backing away slowly. Abigale looked confused.

"Do you not wear stays where you come from?"

"Of course not! Where I come from, we let our bosoms run wild and free! Not caged in that…that death vice!" Skeptical, Abigale shrugged.

"Today I will permit you not to wear the corset. But sometime we must come to some compromise," she helped Caitlin into a simple chocolate brown dress, gathered at the waist, it revealed a beige underskirt. The neckline was modest, and sleeves ended at the elbow. A white shawl was wrapped around her shoulders. Although not fancy, the dress was practical and looked rather nice.

"I guess you do not need the corset- your waist quite small," Abigale commented as she sat the petite girl down in front of a mirror and attacked her shoulder length hair with a comb. Caitlin silently thanked all her horse riding for giving her abs of steel.

"Your hair is rather short my dear," the dark woman tugged at the knots in Caitlin's hair.

"Oh um…" fumbling for an excuse, Caitlin said the first thing that came to her head, "it was a…candle accident! My bother accidentally set my hair on fire, very tragic. I'm lucky I wasn't burnt to death," Abigale clucked sympathetically.

"You poor dear. Luckily I have a smart little bonnet that will suit you very nicely," Soon Caitlin was dressed and led down to the kitchen, where she was given a large bowl of potato and onion soup with several chunks of bread. The children were halfway through their meal and they watched the strange girl eat. Caitlin found it kind of unnerving, being used to her noisy brother and sister. She did miss their mindless chatter.

"I don't bite you know," she smiled after a few minutes of silent gazes. They giggled into their bowls of soup. Deciding that she was ok after all, the children bombarded her with questions.

"Where did you come from?"

"Were you attacked by soldiers?"

"How come you're all scratched?"

"Did you fall from the moon?"

"Ok! One at a time please," she laughed and pointed to the youngest brown haired boy, "You first William," his eyes widened.

"How did you know my name?"

"Well, as soon as I saw you, I thought to myself, ah, now that looks like a William. A fine name for a fine young lad," Caitlin marveled over her quick thinking. Now if she could use that talent when she forgot to do her homework…They were interrupted as Benjamin, Thomas and a tall blond young man Caitlin instantly recognized as Gabriel, or rather Heath Ledger, enter the room

"I am so hungry I could eat a horse," Thomas sat at the table and assaulted the bowl of soup that was placed before him.

"Yes, seeing as though you just fell off one moments before," Gabriel winked at Caitlin as he removed his straw hat, thanking Abigale for his lunch.

"You promised you wouldn't say!"

"Not with your mouth full Thomas," Benjamin said wearily as he sat down at the table, pulling the steaming bowl of soup and bread towards him, "It smells lovely Abigale," as he was just about to taste it, he started and put his spoon down. "How rude of me, Caitlin, I'd like to introduce you to my family. You've met Thomas and Samuel of course, over there is William, Nathan, Margaret, Susan the littlest and Gabriel. Children, this is Caitlin…" he paused and looked at her.

"Adams," she said with a smile. Gabriel reached across the table and shook her hand.

"Welcome to the Martin household. I warn you though, were all very much insane here,"

"Then I'd feel right at home,"

There was a slight crash and a squeal as Margaret had knocked over her glass of milk and the white liquid spread quickly over the wooden surface. Abigale rushed to get a cloth, and while her back was turned, Samuel nicked a piece of Nathan's bread. He squawked loudly and aimed a kick, missed and got Thomas instead, who choked on his bowl of soup. Gabriel thumped him soundly on the back, sending his glass of water straight onto William's lap. The small boy began to cry piercingly.

"Give me back my bread!"

"Make me!"

"Would you be quiet William!"

"The water is soaking me!"

Caitlin looked around at the chaos before her, Margaret helping Abigale with the spilt milk and apologizing profusely, Little Susan with her ears covered to William's wails of grief. A hacking Thomas who was still being thumped on the back by Gabriel and Samuel and Nathan giving kick after kick to each other, each attempting to outdo the other. And amidst all the noise and racket, Benjamin calmly continued to eat his soup, oblivious to everything around him. Caitlin smiled and leant back in her chair.

"Yep, I'm gonna fit right in with this family," she said quietly to herself.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

After living with the Martins for just over two weeks, it became apparent that Caitlin could not do any of the household chores to save her life. As much as she tried, her clothes washing yielded the dullest whites, she created more dust than removing it and Abigale would not let her touch the fine china.

However bad she was at chores, she made up for it by keeping the children busy and entertained. With the children Caitlin made everyday chores seem like a new adventure. Washing the dishes became sailing the high seas amongst hell bound pirates. Benjamin was surprised at the sudden change in the children's behavior since the mysterious girl's arrival. They seemed happier, livelier, and laughter was heard frequently in the large house. It had not been so since his wife had passed away. Although pleased at the new situation, Benjamin had his suspicions. Caitlin could not remember anything before her accident- any recollection of any relatives or friends- except for someone named Stuart who she kept mumbling about in her sleep. She must have had one bump to the head or she was lying, something that he would not tolerate. But he was a fair man and was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. So he let the girl stay.

Since enlisting in the army several years prior, Gabriel visited the plantation less and less frequently. The Martin family was lucky enough to receive the occasional letter. When he did visit home on leave it was as if he never left and by throwing himself into working the fields, Gabriel could forget about the horrors that he had seen during the violent war. His blue eyes had lost some of their characteristic spark yet he behaved the same as he always did, mischievous and with the uncanny ability to manipulate everyone in the household. The Martins and Caitlin anticipated his visits and were loath to see him return to the army. Currently Gabriel was at the plantation on leave for several weeks and the weather appeared to reflect the fortuitous occasion. It was an unusually warm day as Caitlin and Abigale sat on the porch steps mending various items of clothing whilst watching the children run around the front yard. Chickens scattered, squawking in indignation as William and Nathan fought with the wooden swords that Gabriel had carved for them. Susan and Margaret were playing dolls at Abigale's feet, although it was Margaret who was doing all the talking.

"I fear that little Susan is quite dumb," Abigale sighed, glancing at the girls. Caitlin smiled secretly, knowing well that Susan would begin talking later on in the 'movie'.

"Oh just give her time Abigale. Some children take longer to get a grasp on it than others. Just wait and you'll see,"

"I'll take your word for it darlin'"

The sound of pounding feet signified a commotion in the driveway as a small dark figure ran towards them in a cloud of dust. Ruben, one of the young darkies who helped on the plantation clearly had important information to be heard and in his haste to reach them he almost tripped over one of the chickens, sending the shocked bird flying.

"Slow down lad, slow down!" Caitlin exclaimed as the boy reached them, bent at the waist and puffing after his marathon run.

"Is… Gabriel… around?" Ruben asked as he struggled to breathe.

"You just missed him. He was sent to town to fetch a few things from the store," Abigale said. Ruben looked at them in despair.

"Oh no! Now what are we going to do?"

"What in God's name is wrong child? Spit it out now!"

"Trouble at the stables. Big Hickory is mighty sick! Never seen anythin' like it in my life. Old Abner is holding him at the moment, but he won't last long. We need Gabriel to help sort him out,"

"Maybe I could help you," Both Abigale and Ruben looked at her in dismay as Caitlin stood, brushing off her apron.

"You?"

"Why yes. I know a thing or two about horses. My ma has been handling them since before I was born and taught me everything she knew," Looking over at Abigale, Caitlin pleaded with her eyes. Abigale threw her hands in the air.

"Alright. I know there's no stopping you child. Just don't get your dress too dirty and be home in time for supper,"

Caitlin tore off after the fast boy, reaching the stable in minuets. What greeted them were the crazed sounds of a horse in agony. Caitlin had heard them before many times and the sound always tore at her heartstrings. A large bay horse lay on his side in his stall drenched in sweat and a dark old man hovered near by unsure of what to do.

"What's this nonsense Ruben? I asked for Gabriel and you bring a girl?"

"Girl indeed!" Caitlin said indignantly, moving into the stall with the sick horse. "This girl knows a lot more about horses than you apparently do, sir. See that?" Caitlin pointed as the horse struggled to his feet and pointed to his side with his muzzle. "That's a typical sign of colic. He's pointing to where it hurts," she moved towards the horse, soothing him with her voice. "There's a good boy. That's it my King, It's alright now," The horse quieted down, giving the occasional grunt of pain.

"Why, its magic!" Ruben said in awe. Caitlin smiled and shook her head.

"No just horse whispering. Now fetch his head collar and lead rope. He needs to be walked to ease the pain," And walk him she did. For hours and hours until Hickory finally passed his last meal in a sloppy mess.

"Just as I suspected. This horse is getting too much Lucerne. From now on go easy on it, and for the next week, give him plenty of oaten chaff and hay," She gave a loving pat to the sick horse, "He'll be sore for a few days, but at least we can safely say that he's on the road to recovery. Thank God that his gut isn't twisted," Caitlin handed the patient over to the stable boy and wiped an arm over her sweaty forehead. She wearily made her way to the house, dragging her feet as she walked.

She reached the front porch just as Gabriel pulled up in the cart hauled by a handsome grey horse. He gave a wave with his straw hat and she walked up to meet him.

"Ah Caity my love," cried dramatically "I bring tidings of grave sorrows,"

Caitlin was cautious of his tendency for being a dramatist an eyed him suspiciously as she gave the grey horse a scratch behind the ears.

"Oh? And what news may that be Gabe?"

Leaping down onto the dirt he pulled a white paper bad out of his pocket. Then, with a flourish, he bent down on one knee and presented it to her.

"I fear that I have sinned," he sighed, a somber expression on his face. "Whilst at the store I have given into…temptation!" He encouraged Caitlin to take the bag and look inside. She almost cried when she saw that it was chocolate, something that she had been missing while staying with the Martins. "Yes my love," Gabriel flashed one of his trademark grins, "Chocolates, the devil's food,"

"Gabriel these must have cost a fortune!" In the 17th century, one didn't just walk down to the corner store and pay a dollar for a Snickers. It was a long hike or ride down to the nearest town, where chocolate was rare and valued.

"Ah, but if we share them and tell no one, then surely I am not a sinner? And besides, I bought the chocolates out of my own wages, so there!" He took one a popped it into his mouth. Caitlin hurriedly scrunched up the top of the bag and tucked it safely inside her apron.

"No more for now or you will ruin the lovely dinner that Abigale has prepared,"

He linked arms and steered her towards the house as a darkie put away the horse.

"Lead on to this lovely dinner," They entered the house and was greeted by the tantalizing smell of stew and warmth from an open fire. The children chattered noisily as they ate while Benjamin went through the day's mail at a desk in the next room. Abigale was singing a song in her own language as she prepared the dessert of apple pie and freshly skimmed cream. It reminded Caitlin so much of her own home in Australia and the twenty-first century that she almost burst into tears.

"Caity!" the children chorused and she silently thanked the pleasant distraction as she sat down for her hearty beef and vegetable stew. Susan eyed her thoughtfully and Caitlin suspected that the littlest child noticed a lot more than others in the household gave her credit for.

After the last morsels of apple pie and cream had been licked from the bowls, the family settled before the fire for their evening rituals. Thomas commanded his tin soldiers through their ranks; Gabriel was engrossed in the latest novel, usually a patriotic account of war and courage. Abigale was either knitting of sewing and Benjamin went through the records and running of the plantation. Caitlin spent the evening telling stories to the younger children. Not much story telling was being done as she was continuously being interrupted to elaborate on various parts of the tale.

"And so the princess lived happily every after, with Prince Charming in their castle on the hilltop," Caitlin finished the story.

"And then what happened?" According to the children, the story wasn't finished unless they said it was finished.

"Well… they had many beautiful sons and daughters. And also bred cocker spaniels,"

"What colour were the cocker spaniels?"

"Oh for Pete's sake, they were purple and blue! Polka dot!" The famous Adams temper had reared its head. Unfortunately the children found this more amusing than the story had been and eagerly began to goad her with snide remarks. Before Caitlin could explode, Gabriel put down his book.

"So tomorrow I return to the army," he said this casually, as if commenting on the weather, but its effect was as though he had shouted the words into their face while they had been asleep. As he gazed at the various crushed expressions on the Martins faces, Gabriel laughed.

"Oh come on. You all knew that I would have to eventually,"

Caitlin was the first to regain her voice. Not even bad news could stop her from opening her mouth.

"Must you Gabe? Surely you don't have to return yet. Pretend you're ill, break you leg! I'll break it for you if it prevents you from going!" her face slowly began to turn red as she became increasingly flustered.

"Breaking legs won't be necessary Catlin," Benjamin spoke in his deep soft voice. Though he wasn't a man of many words, he spoke with wisdom and could usually calm down any situation with a few well chosen sentences. Hell, he could even negotiate with crazed suicidal terrorists and have them drinking tea with scones in five minutes he was so good.

"Gabriel could have told us all earlier that he would be leaving, but what would that accomplish? Better to appreciate his company while it is here instead of dreading the day that he leaves,"

By the fire, Thomas pushed his toy soldiers' away angrily and stalked from the room. Gabriel leaving effected him the most, not only because he was the only person in the family that he could openly talk to, but also his yearning for the army and battle caused him to resent the fact that Gabriel got to fight in the war while he was tied to the family home to tend the fields. Gabriel stood to follow him, but Benjamin shook his head.

"Let him cool down first," taking off his reading glasses, Benjamin rubbed his eyes wearily. He hated Gabriel being in the army yet he respected his oldest son's decision. Creases lined his handsome face, as the effects and devastation of war reached everyone. Be it soldier, peasant or King, it does not discriminate. It infects each life swiftly like some terminal disease.

"What time do you leave?"

"Early morning, father. It's best that way…" Gabriel twisted the novel in his calloused hands and avoided his father's eyes. Little Susan, with thumb in mouth and doll in arm climbed into Gabriel's lap and simply sat there. This was her way of saying goodbye and that she would miss him terribly. The other children simply looked depressed as they sat on the rug by the fire.

"Come on now, why the long faces? I'll be back before you know it!" his attempt at cheerfulness was lost on the household and it washed over their sadness without having any effect. Abigail took charge and beckoned to the children.

"Time for bed," one by one the children said goodnight to their father, Caitlin and Gabriel, clutching at him rather forcefully as they hugged him before ascending the stairs. The room seemed twice as large and hollow once the children had left, as when Gabriel left the next day, it would be emptier and loose the warmth that only a happy and content family can create.

"Charleston has fallen. General Cornwallis now has hold of it in his greasy mitts,"

War tactics. Caitlin loathed it when Benjamin and Gabriel began to talk of them, as it reminded her that this was real. The war had reached the South and soon it would be at their doorstep. She wondered if this really was a dream that she was in, or whether she could die in this other world.

"How long do you think it will reach South Carolina?"

"It depends. On our strength and theirs. Roughly I'd say we have only a few weeks of good fighting left until our side will have to stand down,"

Caitlin gasped while Benjamin gripped the arms of his chair hard so that his knuckles turned white. This was the only sign of the turmoil through his mind as his voice and face remained steady.

"So we should prepare for battle here?"

"Yes,"

Benjamin nodded, and turned back to the plantation accounts. Caitlin stared into the fire and tried not to think of guns and soldiers. The next day before sunrise, Gabriel left to return to the regiment, seen off only by Benjamin and Abigail. Caitlin watched from the window as his dark brown horse carried him off towards the battlefield, without knowing if the poor creature was also carrying him towards his premature death. Several days later, cannons could be heard in the distance. Like a storm, the war progressed gradually until at last it was so close that even the screams and cries could be heard only several miles away. The drums on the fields beat as rhythmically as the human heart. Yet the heart of war held no blood. War took life, not sustained it. It was lifeless.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

The distinct sounds of gunfire and cannon booms continued persistently throughout the many months of war in the South. Yet inside a frayed white tent not too far away from the raging battle, a hardened man sat at his oak desk, apparently oblivious to the sounds of death and destruction. In the case of this particular man, one could say that he reveled in its magnificence and that it even soothed him to sleep on a restless night, like a lullaby.

Colonel William Tavington or "The Butcher" as he was affectionately known to those in the brigade and much less affectionately known to innocent southern civilians, scanned through his day's achievements while dining on fresh bread and cheese. Several burned plantations, a few killings, the recruitment of black slaves into his Majesty's army and several shot ducks from an unplanned hunting trip. All in all it was a quiet day for the Butcher.

Tavington swore under his breath as the ale he was drinking spilt onto an open map on his desk. Footsteps approaching the door interrupted his colorful profanities and attempts to clean up the mess.

"Colonel, Sir?"

"Yes?" his usual brusque yet curiously blasé voice barked in reply. A soldier wearing a powdered white wig pulled away the flaps of the tent and entered, taking in the surroundings. The Colonel, being quite high in the ranks, had more access to luxuries than mere lieutenants.

"Sir, I've just come to inform you that South Carolina has fallen," the soldier informed the red cloaked back of the Colonel.

"I see. Very interesting," the news pleased him and he turned around to face the lieutenant. A smirk was as close to a smile that his handsome face would permit, his steel blue eyes flashed with triumph as he drew his tall physique up higher as though to appear more imposing. If that were even possible. Colonel Tavington appeared more intimidating without actually trying.

"This calls for a toast," he poured another drink for the lieutenant, topped up his own and raised his glass. "To the war,"

"Yes. Indeed. The war," the lieutenant took a small sip as Tavington drained his glass in one gulp, the actions of a seasoned drinker. He then immediately pored himself another.

"A plantation not far away holds the wounded soldiers, sir. Both rebels and ours. I believe the name of it is the Martin plantation,"

Tavington paced his tent; drink in hand and a spring in his step.

"We go tomorrow first light. To sort out what's left from the dregs of the battle. England may win this war yet," pausing to savor those words, Tavington waved a hand at his companion "That will be all lieutenant,"

"Yes Sir,"

Tavington began to pour another drink but caught himself as he grasped the jug of ale. Of all the great and terrible things he had done during the war, becoming an alcoholic would not be part of the itinerary. The Tavington name used to be one of power, wealth and influence. Yet Tavington senior had misspent much of the family fortune in his addictions to alcohol and gambling. Though it was once a fine family the name was now reduced to ruins Tavington senior was, in an attempt to vent his frustrations, abusive and destructive. When he died he left the remaining relations with nothing but a soiled reputation and numerous debts. So William Tavington joined the British Army to regain what was left of his dignity. It would be a long way yet, but by God he would make the Tavington name something to be proud of. In his determination, Tavington grew into a toughened man as at an early age, all he could remember was violence and the dreadful beatings from his father in constant drunken rages. Though many wouldn't agree, he saw himself as a strong man and hoped to someday to set up his own home here in the colony. Perhaps even start a family, if only to carry on the Tavington surname. During the present he was content to do whatever it took to succeed. Even if certain morals and principles were displaced along the way. There were no rules in war; one made them up as they went along.

Tavington unwillingly returned to the pile of paper that awaited him at his desk. War was not all valiancy and gore- it too had its tedious side. Tavington soon became frustrated with the idle work and threw his quill onto the desk in disgust. He was a man of action, damn it, not some doddery shortsighted clerk. Twisting in his chair, Tavington glanced outside. The moon was unusually bright tonight, full and yellow.

Several kilometers away, Caitlin too was looking at the moon- so stark against the black sky that it even diminished the luminous sparkle from the stars. It looked so close; she thought that she could almost graze it with her fingertips.

"Water…please. Someone bring me some water…"

After the savage battle that had occurred literally at their doorstep, the Martins now tended the wounded soldiers by treating their injuries, providing food, shelter and warmth. The moans and wails of pain from the casualties at first had been daunting to Caitlin, who was not use to this magnitude of suffering. Yet she became accustomed to it, steeling herself against the cries and treating the soldiers as best as she could- at the very least to comfort them in their last hours before death finally came.

On her way to retrieve water and fresh towels Caitlin passed Abigale who was laden with steaming bowls of broth, the younger boys Nathan and Samuel who fetched and carried various items and solid Benjamin, treating each soldier equally and with the quiet determination that Caitlin admired. Gabriel too was up and about, having been treated for a nasty slash in his side from a musket during combat. He wandered between the patients and leant a hand as best as he could. All through the night and onwards until the first rays of sunshine appeared in the sky, the Martin family worked. Tired to the point of exhaustion, Caitlin still maintained a cheery demeanor as she carefully fed one of the wounded Redcoats a bowl of porridge.

"I thank you miss," the soldier said between mouthfuls, "Your kindness and hospitality is very much appreciated among myself and the rest of the platoon,"

The accented and well pronounced voice displayed honesty and genuine indebtedness which made it hard for Caitlin to remember that he was in fact an enemy.

"Don't sweat it buddy," she replied as she loaded up another spoonful of porridge.

"I beg your pardon?"

Damn. She kept forgetting that people just didn't get slang in the seventeenth century. And unless you were under thirty years of age, they didn't get it in the twenty-first century either. Before she could respond to the humorously confused patient a far off vibration made her stop and pause for a moment. What sounded like hoof beats from a team of horses were approaching from the distance, which could have several explanations. They were either the circus coming to visit South Carolina or the Redcoats had arrived to collect their wounded military unit.

"Please let that be a troop of elephants," Caitlin muttered under her breath she abandoned the bowl of porridge and stood to view the commotion. Enemy soldiers emerged on foot through the fields, crushing the delicate crops in their haste to reach the homestead. A commanding lieutenant festooned in a white wig drew near Benjamin, who stood on the porch gazing at the soldiers that now surrounded the house with weapons in their hands.

"Thankyou for the care of his majesties soldiers," the lieutenant seemed nervous, even apologetic towards the Martins who stood gathered together. Galloping horses advanced upon the plantation and the lieutenant directed his attention towards the mounts who thundered down the driveway.

The Green Dragoons were a formidable horde, with their leader being one of the most feared men in the war. Caitlin sucked in her breath as the man of her girlish fantasies directed his chestnut horse right up to the porch steps, holding up a hand to halt the soldiers behind him. With one swift gaze, his steel blue eyes surveyed the surroundings.

'_Tavvy. Here. In the flesh. In pantaloons. Tight pantaloons,'_ Caitlin's brain ceased to string together proper sentences, and all that she could see before her was the man that appeared frequently as the main star of her dreams and desires.

"Fire the house and barns," the Butcher said after a slight pause, "Let it be known if you harbor the enemy you will loose your home,"

Shocked gasps and the sensation of being clawed startled Caitlin from her daydreaming as the Martin children grasped her arms in terror. She had to remind herself that these were no actors playing characters in an action movie, this was the real deal. And if the scene was going right on schedule, then that meant…

"Thomas," Caitlin hissed under her breath. She had to somehow prevent the scene from ending the way it was meant to, but how? Nothing she had done so far had altered the course of the 'movie' yet she couldn't stand by and watch Thomas be murdered. Caitlin, deep in her thoughts, hadn't noticed the dark slaves that worked on the plantation being assembled into groups like cattle to be set free and join the King's army. Amongst the turmoil the wigged lieutenant handed several slips of soiled paper to Tavington.

"Rebel dispatches sir,"

Tavington swiftly glanced through the papers, one eye raised aristocratically.

"Who carried these?" the curt question received no reply. The Martin family avoided the Butcher's gaze as he inspected them in turn and as his eyes reached Caitlin he paused, observing as she stood on the deck with her arms around the Martin children in protection. She was determined not to blink under his audacious stare and even raised an eyebrow at him in return.

'_He sure is a bastard, but man is he sexy when he's annoyed. Whoa girl,'_ Caitlin chided herself, _'remember the situation here,' _

"Who carried this?" Tavington had finally lost his patience.

"I did sir," Gabriel stepped forward from his place on the porch and approached the Colonel warily, "I was wounded, these people gave me care," he gestured towards the remaining Martins huddled together, "they had nothing to do with the dispatches,"

Tavington read through the papers again, briefly, before reaching a decision.

"Take this one to **Camdes,** he is a spy. Hang him and put his body on display,"

Caitlin knew this was coming. How many times had she watched The Patriot, memorized this scene and replayed it over and over in her mind? Though even with this basic knowledge, it did nothing to prepare her for the real thing. The pounding of blood in her ears had reached roaring point and she could feel a hot blush slowly rise from her chest towards her face. Time was running out and she had to act soon before it was too late.

'_Think girl, think!'_

Benjamin deftly took over the situation.

"He is a dispatched rider and that's a marked case," even as his own son was being restrained by the Red Coats, Benjamin Martin remained calm. It was not the first time that Caitlin wondered whether he felt fear. Tavington ignored Benjamin's remark.

"Destroy the livestock,"

"Colonel, this is a uniformed dispatched rider and carrying a marked case. He cannot be held as a spy,"

No Benjamin! Caitlin wanted to warn him but all her attention was focused on deciding the best moment to act and disrupt the scene.

"Oh we're not going to hold him. We're going to hang him," if the Colonel had said "Jolly good weather today" in the same tone he had previously used, one could find the statement believable. The Butcher's death sentences were delivered with pleasure, a characteristic sneer and spoken as though he were talking to someone who was perhaps a little simple minded.

"Colonel-"

"Father," Gabriel hissed at Benjamin, struggling a little as the soldiers that detained him tightened their grasp. Recognition appeared on Tavington's face as he looked from Gabriel to Benjamin, eyebrow raised higher still.

"Oh I see, he's your son," Tavington sounded positively gleeful at this information. "Well perhaps you should have taught him something of loyalty,"

"Colonel I beg you to reconsider the rules of war-"

"Rules of war- would you like a lesson, sir, on the rules of war?" interrupting Benjamin's plea, Tavington drew his pistol expertly, pressing slightly on the trigger so that the weapon clicked in anticipation. Then, as an afterthought, "Or perhaps your children would,"

Caitlin had never had anything other than a water pistol pointed at her, and choosing between that and a loaded, functional gun, she would rather take the Super Soaker. The children whimpered, clutching at her skirts while Benjamin hurried to stand in front of them and flung out his arms in a protective stance.

"No lesson will be necessary,"

"You Bast-"

"Caitlin!" Benjamin hushed.

"No, let the girl speak," Caitlin had aroused the Butcher's curiosity though he still pointed the gun at the Martins, swinging it lazily from side to side. "Perhaps the girl, Caitlin was it? Perhaps she has a few lesson plans in mind…" his nonchalant voice held a hint of something more ominous. This was not a hard task to accomplish when holding a loaded firearm.

"Sir, what of the rebel wounded?" the lieutenant interrupted the discomfited moment, distracting the colonel from his unwholesome thoughts. The angry sprite of a girl before him held a lot of interest to him. Her flushed face and rise and fall of her bosom from the neckline of her modest dress were particularly enticing. He was a man of course and not one made of stone.

"Kill them,"

……


	5. Chapter 5

The scene that followed happened so fast that Caitlin barely had time to think

The scene that followed happened so fast that Caitlin barely had time to think. And yet it seemed to go for an eternity.

At one moment, Thomas had been standing just a few meters away from her, seemingly helpless as she was and unsure of how to act. But prompted by some deep instinct, he had exploded towards the soldiers that held Gabriel captive.

"Gabriel, run!" He had cried, shoving the soldiers aside.

In slow motion, Catlin saw Tavington raise the pistol to Thomas's back. Benjamin reached out a hand as if to stop the act.

"No!" Both Benjamin and Caitlin screamed at the same time.

But it was too late.

Thomas was stopped in his tracks with a jolt, a faint expression of surprise on his youthful face. He dropped to his knees as the bullet quickly took his life away. Benjamin ran to his fallen son, grabbing him and gathering to his chest. Gabriel struggled against the soldiers that held him to, but no avail.

Caitlin could hear the beating of her heart, as if someone was beating a drum close to her ear. The blood rushed to her head. The alien desire to hurt, to kill, quickly spread so that every muscle in her body was tensed. Her vision blurred to focus on the person of her murderous intent.

"Stupid Boy," Col. Tavington watched the scene with faint amusement. At the anguished father and his dead son. He looked at the soldiers who transported the black woman and workers amidst cries from the children who still stood idle by the porch stairs with the girl. The girl whose cheeks flushed enticingly and whose fists clenched so that the knuckles turned white.

Caitlin wanted to rush at him. To put her hands around his neck and strangle the arrogant breath from his lungs. But before she could take one stop towards him, he spurred his giant chestnut mare into a canter and road down the dirt driveway, followed by several members of his platoon. She looked towards Benjamin, for a signal. Benjamin carefully laid his son back onto the ground.

"Stay here," he hissed at the children as he ran back into house that was now overcome with flames. He returned a few minutes later, slightly singed and carrying a tomahawk and four firearms. Keeping two for himself and handing one gun to Samuel, he then hesitated between Caitlin and Nathan. Caitlin was surprised to find the gun placed in her shaky hands and barely managed to catch it in time. She didn't know why he chose her. Perhaps he saw the fire in her eyes.

"Margaret listen to me. Take the younger children and hide in the forest. If we are not back by nightfall I want you to take them to your aunt Charlotte's. Do you understand me?" Benjamin asked his second eldest daughter. She whimpered in reply and he barely paused to acknowledge it before turning to Caitlin and the armed boys. "Come with me,"

They moved with haste through the forest, spurred by adrenalin, vengeance and the desire to rescue Gabriel from the soldiers that intended to hang him. Travelling through the forest was faster than the roads, and soon they caught up and overtook the soldiers that held Gabriel.

Caitlin could scarcely hear Benjamin explaining something to the boys and her as they set up their ambush.

"Aim small, miss small," was all she managed to catch from his short and hurried lesson on shooting. Caitlin's only desire was revenge. And that meant going to the source. She tugged on Benjamin's sleeve before he could take his position.

"let me find him,' there was no need to say who 'him' was. Benjamin looked at her with a probing expression, his mind quickly assessing what she said and making a decision.

"Do you know the forest well?"

"Yes,"

"Can you shoot?"

"Yes,"

"Can I trust you to use your instincts, to back down when it's too risky?"

She didn't answer his question, only looked deep into his sharp eyes. Her determined expression was all the answer he needed and he nodded his consent.

"We will wait until nightfall," Benjamin touched her arm briefly before turning away and taking his position behind a moss covered tree. Caitlin began her passage through the forest, hoping she would be fast enough and brave enough to accomplish what she aimed to do. Forget schoolgirl crushes and fantasies. She aimed to kill Col. Tavington.

… … … … … …

Tavington made slow progress in his journey back to the campsite. He hadn't even left the forest path yet. It was an unfamiliar path to him and he was taking great caution to prevent any unwanted attacks by rebel militia. As well as relishing in what he thought was a good day's work. And that girl.

She was young, but by god she was invigorating. He recalled her flushed cheeks as he shot the Martin boy in the back. The way her eyes had darkened, a dangerous expression crossing but not marring her delicate features.

Pulling his horse up, he slid from the saddle, allowing his faithful mare to take a drink from the stream while he assessed the enemy dispatches. Yet his mind kept drifting back to the girl. What was her name? Caitlin. Such an innocent name for a fiery young woman.

"Get a grip William," he chuckled to himself. A man in his mid thirties lusting after a girl just out of the schoolroom? Yet his thoughts still swayed to that of the unsavoury variety. He leaned back so that he stood leaning against a tree, eyes closed as he daydreamed. His soldiers left him and moved further downstream, taking their chance at a cigarette and lunch break.

Caitlin had caught up to the slow moving group and she slowly crawled forward towards them with the gum placed at her hip. She passed the soldiers in their lunch break and headed to the place where Tavington and his horse lingered. She wasn't sure what she would do once she got there. She was armed both with a weapon and the furious longing to harm and to destroy. She approached slowly, with all caution thrown to the wind, not caring that there were soldiers nearby and that she was about to do something completely reckless. At just meters away from where Tavington stood with his eyes closed, Caitlin watched. He seemed almost peaceful, his hard eyes closed, the lack of permanent frown creasing his forehead; a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. She looked at him without feeling and without the lust that previously would have had her gagging with desire. Except for the desire to kill.

Slowly she crept forward, trying to keep to the soft and mossy parts of the undergrowth. She paused a few yards away, arranging herself behind a small shrub and lifted the gun from her hip, wincing slightly at the clicking noise the trigger made as she prepared to fire. Before she could pull the trigger, he spoke.

"Out you come. I know you're hiding there," he didn't even open his eyes. Caitlin hesitated before standing and stepping around the bush, hastily deciding that she had the slight advantage. She was armed. His weapons were with the horse that stood grazing by the stream. The soldiers were a few hundred meters away. She could shoot him and run back into the forest. The forest was easy for her to navigate and she was certain that she could easily loose the soldiers if the pursued her, and join Benjamin before nightfall. Tavington opened his eyes and fixed his piercing eyes on Caitlin as she stood holding the gun.

"You,"

She nodded, seemingly agreeing.

"Me."

"Do you really think you can shoot a colonel and get away with it?" His voice was lustrous, smooth. Curiously it remained calm. Why was he so sure of himself?

"I see no colonel here," her voice was lifeless. "I see only a murderer, a cheat, a butcher. No colonel," this seemed to amuse him greatly, and he peeled himself away from the tree and inched slowly towards her. Those piercing blue eyes held an expression that she was not entirely comfortable with.

"Don't you take one step further," Caitlin pointed the gun to his chest, her finger applying pressure to the trigger.

_Shoot him! Do it! _Her mind cried out to her. Yet something in her subconscious mind was making her waver. Tavington, quickly noting her hesitation, crossed the distance between them and took the barrel of the gun. Caitlin couldn't believe it as the gun slid easily from her hands. Tavington didn't seem the least bit surprised. He took the gun and unhinged the barrel, disposing of the bullets.

"How old are you? Seventeen?" he observed her slight form as she stood before him, her arms stiffly at her sides. "Look at you. You've never held a gun in your life. How easily I took away your insignificant power,"

"I don't need a gun to hurt you," Caitlin hissed, the flow of her blood roaring in her ears. She couldn't see, hear, or think about anything except what she had to do to the man that stood smirking before her.

"Oh is that so? I'd like to see you try," he advanced a step closer until Caitlin could feel the warmth of his body. No doubt he could feel hers. He was tall, and she had to raise her head to look into his eyes. They held an expression that she had never seen directed at her before. Not unlike hunger; his eyes literally smouldered with purpose. He raised his arm and made to take hold of her, but she flinched out of his way.

"Get away from me you revolting man!" Tavington grinned malevolently at her discomfort.

"Come now, that's a bit harsh isn't it?"

"It's too good for you!" she spat, dodging from his repeat attempt to grasp her by the arm. The humour from his face fell and he successfully seized her wrist.

"Your insolence should be punished. Don't you know how to address a gentleman?" It was a rhetorical question, yet she answered anyway.

"Kindly point out to me this gentleman you speak of," he looked at her like he wanted to slap her, and gripped her wrist so that the delicate bones cracked. He would leave bruises.

"I see there's a bit of fire in you. Yes. I like a bit of fire in my hostages," he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, the breath hot and clammy. "It makes taming them all the more satisfying,"

Having not successfully frightened her before, Caitlin was truly scared now. What had she gotten herself into? She silently cursed her stubbornness and furiously tried to think of an escape plan. The best she could come up with was to knee him in the groin and to make a run for it. No doubt he would catch up to her, but it was all she had right now. Without pausing, she swiftly brought up her knee and smashed it to his crotch. He buckled slightly and she used that to shove him to the side and run back towards the forest. She hadn't even gotten to the first layer of trees before his iron grip took her by the upper arms and swung her easily around to face him. She couldn't believe it. He was actually chuckling! She amused and slightly irritated him; not the effect she was aiming for.

"You think you can out run me?" he half dragged her back to where his horse stood patiently. Caitlin kicked, screamed and struggled, but that only made him hold her tighter, those powerful arms crushing hers to her side.

"Let me go!" she could barely move now and tears of frustration welled in her eyes.

"Shh," he soothed her, mockingly, "Calm down now. I don't want you to hurt yourself," Keeping one arm holding her by the wrists, he reached down to touch her dishevelled hair. Caitlin whipped her head away from his touch with a rasping sob. She had never felt so helpless in her life.

"Colonel?" A soldier from the platoon stood a few meters away, his arm hovering by the gun that was strapped to his back. "Do you need assistance?" He eyed Caitlin as she stood motionless in Tavington's arms.

"No Smith, I have everything under control. Tell the troops that we will be heading back to the campsite now," the soldier nodded and returned. Tavington looked back down at Caitlin and noted how defeated she looked. She felt his gaze on her head and looked up to meet his eyes, revealing an expression of despair. "Don't worry, I wont kill you," he did nothing to reassure her, as there were worse things than death. Taking Caitlin by her waist he swung her up and into his horse's saddle. He followed shortly after, sitting very close behind her so that her back pressed into his chest, his muscled arms reaching for the reins so that they enveloped her. Tavington clicked his tongue and the horse launched into a trot, to take its place at the front of the pack.

_What am I going to do now? _Caitlin twisted in the saddle to look around Tavington's broad chest and into the forest. She wished she had never made that hasty decision to leave the safety of Benjamin's company. Now she was unsure of how future events would unfold.

… … …


	6. Chapter 6

I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry Caitlin willed herself as

The sun was setting as Benjamin stood panting from the exertion of the ambush himself and his son Samuel successfully accomplished against the enemy soldiers. Covered in blood, he looked about, although not really seeing anything. The adrenalin, the anger and suffering blinded him. He could hear Gabriel talking to him but could barely make out the words.

"I need to rejoin my division. Will you be alright? Are Caitlin, Margaret and the other children safe?" Benjamin shook his head to regain his senses.

"Yes. The children are waiting back at the house,"

"And Caitlin?"

"Caitlin…" Gabriel grabbed his father by the shoulders to steady him.

"Father. Where is Caitlin?"

"She went to get…him…" Samuel murmured, still clutching the gun that had killed several members of the enemy soldiers. Gabriel twisted his head to look at Samuel in disbelief.

"She went after the butcher?" he turned back to stare at his father, a worried frown creasing his brow. "Father why?"

"I don't know…" Benjamin spoke very softly, barely above a whisper. "We were supposed to wait for her at sunset." The sun had almost disappeared under the horizon. Gabriel swore loudly, dropping his hands from Benjamin's shoulders and began to pace across the dirt track.

"Ok. It's about three minutes til nightfall. Caitlin isn't back yet. How long do we wait?

Benjamin seemed to regain his natural calm disposition.

"We don't wait any longer,"

"What?!" Gabriel exploded, turning back to stand in front of his father, "Just leave her then? In the hands of that…that..." he struggled to find the words to convey exactly what he wanted to say. Benjamin placed a hand on his shoulder but Gabriel shrugged it off irately. "No father! It's not right!"

"I know. But what good will it do to walk directly into the enemy camp, demanding that they return her? Think rationally Gabriel,"

"She could even be dead!"

"No. I don't think he had that in mind…" Benjamin shook his head, not needing to explain himself further. Gabriel glared at his father in disgust before marching down the track towards the plantation. He needed to arm himself if he wanted to get Caitlin back.

… … … … … …

_I'm not going to cry; I'm not going to cry _Caitlin willed herself as she sat uncomfortably in the saddle in front of Tavington, her back stiff to avoid as much contact as possible. They approached a busy campsite dotted with white tents and men sitting around open fires. Very few of them had bloody injuries. The men eyed her on the colonel's horse with slight interest, but not surprise. It seemed that the colonel's behaviour was not unusual to them.

They eventually reached a larger white tent and Tavington swiftly dismounted. He reached up and took Caitlin by the waist, placing her none to gently onto the ground so that she promptly fell. A young soldier took the horse, throwing a sympathetic glance at Caitlin who staggered as she got used to the sensation of walking again. Tavington opened the flap of the tent and shoved Caitlin inside. He had not said a word since they had first set off and the silence was driving her mad.

"Sit," he directed her to a frayed armchair, then sat at his desk and reached for a bottle of whisky. He poured himself a large glass of the brown liquid and swallowed it in one gulp, not even flinching as the alcohol burned his throat. Caitlin sat in the chair and watched without awareness. She was wallowing in self pity and grief for the death of Thomas, who had become a surrogate brother to her. Tavington looked up at her and noticed that she shivered as she sat, her knees pressed up against her body and arms placed securely around her legs.

"Are you hungry?" he asked curtly, not out of politeness, but just for something to say. She just blinked at him in reply, her haunted eyes piercing his. Sighing in frustration, he stood and walked to the door of the tent. "Fine. I will get some food, but it's up to you whether you decide to eat or not,"

A few moments later a platter of bread, cheese, meat and wine arrived. Tavington ate while performing the menial duties of war. Caitlin did not move from her spot in the chair. She did not watch. She barely even breathed. It was not like her to give up so easily, but then she had never felt the pain of loosing someone close to her. Shortly, Tavington threw the pen he was writing with down onto the desk and stood, stretching.

"I am leaving for a while. Do not leave this tent. There are guards posted all around the campsite, so escaping is not recommended. If you would like to sleep you can take this cloak," he threw a charcoal woollen cloak from the back of his desk chair at her, which landed at her feet. She was not even looking at him this time, but sat curled into the chair, pushing her face into the upholstery. Tavington left without another word.

It was several hours after Tavington left that Caitlin stirred from her sorrow filled stupor. Looking about her she took in the surroundings, noting the fine wooden desk, the trunks filled with shiny new uniforms and the exceptionally cosy looking divan. The divan was starting to look like a very good proposition at that moment. She walked to the desk and took the bottle of red wine, necking the bottle and chocking a little as she struggled to drink half of it in one attempt. Small rivers of burgundy escaped from her lips and stained her dress. She didn't care. Having not eaten since breakfast, the wine was having the required consequence of dulling the pain that she felt. It went right to her head and she stumbled a great deal as she headed towards the cot and climbed under the covers. She did not care if she was allowed to be in it or not, or how it smelt so much like him. Of leather, horse and something noticeably masculine. Perhaps it was his cologne. After lying under the covers with tears running down her dusty skin, she drifted of to sleep easily, driven by the effects of wine and exhaustion. It was there that Tavington found her a short while later, her tearstained face poking just out from the covers that swathed her completely. He muttered in irritation as he dragged a more comfortable armchair towards the end of the divan. He removed his outer red coat, collar and riding boots so that he was clad only in white shirt and grey breaches. He settled himself into the chair and placed his feet onto the end of the divan so that they were positioned horizontally. Throwing his cloak over himself he sunk himself down into the chair as much as he could and closed his eyes. The discomfort did not matter to him so much; he was a man of war after all and had slept in worse positions. However, he would have a word to Caitlin in the morning about the sleeping arrangements. Right now he was too tired to care, and drifted off to sleep as easily as she had done.

… … … … … …

Caitlin woke to a throbbing headache and winced as the sunlight from the open flap of the tent made it worse. She sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes as if to rub the ache from her head. Tavington had already left for military duties so she was alone. And glad. She didn't want to know how he had fared during the night after she had stolen his bed. He had left some bread and a small jar of strawberry preserves on his desk. Suddenly ravenous, she got up and ate the food rapidly to appease the growls of hunger erupting from her empty stomach. Her hunger placated, she then stripped out of her stained dress and used a fresh bowl of water and cloth to wash as much dirt from her as possible. She combed her honey streaked hair so that it was no longer matted but sat in natural waves about her shoulders. She was left with only her white undergarments, no corset (of course) and her lace up heeled leather boots. Shrugging, she picked up the discarded cloak from the armchair and covered herself, making a face at the prickliness of the materiel. It was fortunate that she managed to groom herself in time, as Tavington walked back into the tent a few seconds later.

"Awake now?" he asked nonchalantly, taking in her form as she stood in his cloak. She nodded, reddening a little in uneasiness. He smirked at that

"Yes," he looked immaculate as always. Clean shaven, pressed shirt and collar, hair brushed and pulled up into a green ribbon and glossy boots. Some poor private had to be doing his laundry.

"I suppose you'll be needing some clean attire?" he eyed the dirty pile that used to be a brown dress. He walked over to the end of the divan and opened a wooden trunk. Inside was a jumble of materiel. He sorted through it for a moment before lifting out a pale green dress, and white undergarments. Caitlin avoided his eyes as he gave them to her. "I will leave for five minutes so you can get dressed,"

_At least he had some sense of decency_ Caitlin thought. Except he looked as though he'd much rather stay and watch the show. The moment he left the tent she threw off the cloak and quickly got out of her undergarments, putting on the replacement ones in such a hurry that she didn't care if she got them around the right way or not. Stepping into the dress, she was surprised to find that it fit her like a glove. The pale green material was gathered into an abundant skirt that parted to reveal the ivory underskirt. The sleeves reached just past he elbows and were trimmed in a delicate lace. The bodice however was rather tight, pushing her breasts up so that they swelled over the low neckline. She wished there was a shawl to cover them up. Tavington returned at the exact time he had said he would, which made Caitlin believe that he had been counting down the minutes. He looked over her figure appraisingly.

"You'll do," Caitlin crossed her arms in defence and glared at him.

"I'm glad I'm to your liking. Where did you get the clothing from? Unless of course you're hiding a little fancy not suited to the reputation of a colonel?" it was Tavington's turn to frown at her this time.

"Actually, they're from the plantations that have been raided during the war," that wiped the impertinent expression from her face.

"Oh… and you were just saving them for a rainy day?" He shrugged.

"Too nice to let them go to waste, don't you agree?" She chose to ignore that. "While we're on speaking terms I'd just like to make a few points clear. You do exactly as I say. You don't leave without my permission. And you certainly don't sleep in the bed from now on. Understood?" as he spoke he moved towards her, like a hunter towards its prey. She raised an eyebrow at his short tirade.

"As you wish, your highness," she pushed past him to approach the opening of the tent but he grabbed her by the wrist before she could exit.

"Where precisely do you think you're going?" His tone was stern.

"To the toilet. Or do you have to be their as well?" she didn't wait for an answer, but shook her wrist free and stormed out of the tent in a temper, letting the opening flutter as she left.

…


	7. Author's Note

Hi readers

Hi readers! I don't know what happened with the last two chapters, but they both seem to start with a sentence that should appear later on! I have tried replacing the chapters, but it did not fix the problem. Hopefully it can be sorted out in the neat future!  
Just had to point that out as although I know I have shocking grammar, I am not a total skitz!

SO thanks for keeping up so far. I'm on a roll at the moment- really churning out the chapters. Reviews make me write faster though any feedback is encouraged but flames will be ignored

-Tahlia Malfoy

P.S: I will replace this authors note with the proper chapter asap!


	8. Chapter 7

Caitlin stormed through the campsite, ignoring the catcalls and whistles from the soldiers as she passed

Caitlin stormed through the campsite, ignoring the catcalls and whistles from the soldiers as she passed. She had to get away from that infuriating man!

_It's odd_ she thought, _I have lusted after Tavington ever since I first saw him. But now I despise him._ She knew that now the circumstances were different, and that she was living the 'movie', or dream, what ever it was. She also wondered how long it would last. Would she have to stay until it ran its course? Or could she just wake herself up. She missed her friends, family and horses. She just wanted to go home.

The guards watched her, weapons ready as she stood at the edge of the campsite, gazing wistfully into the forest that surrounded it, her eyes brimming with tears at the thought of her family.

"Miss? Col. Tavington said you weren't to leave," a young soldier warned. Caitlin threw him a withering look which made him shuffle nervously on the spot.

"Of course," she signed, turning her back on freedom.

"That is to say, it is not _my_ wish to hold you captive as the colonel does," the soldier offered, an inviting smile on his face. Caitlin returned it half heartedly. She recognised him faintly but wasn't sure where she had seen him before. Yet she was craving a friendly face and civil company, so she meandered over to where he was posted and held out her hand.

"My name is Caitlin," he took her small hand in his rough one and kissed it lightly. This surprised her a little- she was still not used to the mannerisms of the time.

"Wilkins," he greeted. She recognised the name. A minor character in the Patriot movie (compared to Tavington at least). "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she noted the American accent, so stark against the formal British enunciation.

"But you're American!" she exclaimed, just to make conversation. She knew more about him than she cared to let on. He looked somewhat embarrassed and nodded.

"Yes. I am. I didn't consider in the opinions of the people of the colonies and American democracy. I joined the British to stand for what I believe in,"

"And what is that?" Caitlin asked in disbelief. She had never met a person, in the flesh, so unpatriotic.

"I believe in the ruling of his majesty the King," at this Wilkins stood a little taller. Caitlin scrutinised him, not knowing what to make of this double-crossing soldier. But he appeared to be a nice enough guy and she was willing to take any friendly face over the cold glares of the colonel. "I'd ask you what brings you here, but I guess that's not a very amusing joke," Wilkins smiled at her self-consciously. This made Caitlin laughed, not out of humour, but at the sorry situation she was in.

"I don't know what the colonel wants from me," she frowned, deep in thought. "Surly this behaviour of taking hostages is frowned upon by those higher in command?" Wilkins shrugged.

"Oh sure. But with so many problems at other divisions in this war, the little matter of one hostage is insignificant. And although the colonel has a horrid reputation, they are more lenient on him because he gets the job done," Wilkins shook his head in disbelief. "As to what he'll do with you I cannot say…"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Tavington approached where Wilkins and Caitlin stood, having heard the last part of Wilkins's explanation. Caitlin cowered slightly at the dangerous expression in his eyes as he stared them down. Wilkins bowed his head in greeting.

"Colonel,"

"Captain. I thank you for minding my…detainee. I ask you to return to your position as camp guard now," Wilkins nodded in resignation and turned, ignoring Caitlin who was trying to make herself as small as possible. Tavington grabbed her by the arm and dragged her unceremoniously away from Wilkins who mouthed a word of apology as they moved away. "What did I tell you?" Tavington asked angrily as they marched through the campsite.

"You said that I wasn't supposed to leave and I had to do everything you say," she recited irately.

"And what were you doing just then?"

"I was just talking. I wasn't escaping and you didn't say specifically that I could not talk to people," his temper exploded then and he turned and slapped her sharply across the face. Caitlin gasped out of shock rather than pain. She had never been hit in her life. She brought a shaking had to her stinging face; the colonel towering over her in his rage.

"From now on you talk to no one. And any more cheek from you, there will be more than a slap to the face. Do you understand me?" Caitlin nodded silently, the blow making her mute. Tavington seemed to calm down a little then and took her arm more gently as they walked back to his tent. Once inside her dropped her arm as if it were poison and straightened his red coat. "You are to stay here until I allow you to leave. There are books to read," he gestured to a small bookshelf that held various coloured novels, "if you need anything you are to speak to me and only me," he watched as she looked at him with a pitiable expression on her face before turning and leaving her in the tent. Caitlin sighed and chose one of the books from the shelf, hoping that it would pass the time.

… … … … … …

_The famous Tavington temper rears its glorious head_ Tavington thought as he walked through the campsite. He wasn't sure where he was walking to, but he had to get away from the source of his disgust at that moment. The sensation was unfamiliar to him. During his life he had become used to the beatings and coldness of a person higher in authority. From this he had inherited the same mannerisms and methods of dealing with those that disobeyed him. They had suited him just fine during the war, but now instead of being faced with an impertinent private or rebel soldier, he was dealing with a young girl. A pretty young girl at that. Despite the numerous murders he had committed against innocent civilians as well as enemy soldiers, the situation between him and the girl was in some way different. It angered him that he felt this way.

"What is wrong with you William?" he muttered to himself, "First you lust after her, now you want to hurt her," a fine veteran of war he made. He stopped and shook himself briefly, as if to shake the feeling from his body.

"May I offer you a smoke, colonel?" The blond headed soldier Borden approached him from his left side, a cigarette extended in his outstretched hand.

"No thankyou, Borden," Tavington cared too much about his health and appearance to fill his lungs with tobacco smoke. Borden shrugged and lit the cigarette for himself.

"I hear you've acquired yourself a hostage," Borden raised his arms in defence at the infuriated expression on Tavington's face. "I only make a statement colonel,"

Tavington started to wish that he had taken that cigarette after all.

"I suppose the whole campsite is speculating over what I intend to do with her?"

Borden nodded.

"Yes. I am rather curious myself,"

Tavington let out his breath slowly, trying to think.

"I honestly do not have a clue. She attempted, badly, to shoot me, and I suppose that is a hanging offence," Tavington turned to look at Borden, "but she's only a girl,"

"That hasn't stopped you before, colonel,"

"I know," Tavington brought a fist to his forehead and screwed up his face. Borden noticed this strange behaviour, far from the usual impassiveness that he saw in the colonel. He felt that he should leave the colonel to his private thoughts and left him quietly.

… … … … … …

Caitlin had draped herself lethargically across the armchair in Tavington's tent, bored stiff after abandoning the numerous novels she had started. It was a rather nice day outside and she fumed over the fact that the colonel had condemned her to remain in the tent. She was a country girl and relished in being outdoors; it sustained her. She daydreamed longingly about what she would be doing if she was back at home. Taking Jade, her grumpy horse out for a long trail ride around her property. Or getting up to no good with her eccentric friends. A dull ache in her stomach soon stirred her from her daydreams.

"Oh no…" she said to herself, realisation hitting her. How long had she been in this dream? Almost a month. Surly _that_ sort of thing didn't happen in dreams. Then she felt the tell-tale trickle in her pelvic region.

"Holy crap," she sat up quickly but it was too late. A crimson stain spread had spread slowly across pale green fabric. She turned around frantically, trying to look at the back of her dress. Tavington found her like that a few moments later, undertaking an odd dance during which she tried unsuccessfully to look behind her.

"What in God's name are you doing?"

Caitlin jumped and turned to face him swiftly, hoping he hadn't seen the red patch on the back of the dress.

"Oh nothing. I was just…looking,"

"Looking?" Tavington was perplexed, "at what?"

"Just the…back…of the dress…its nice," she shuffled nervously, trying to stem the eager stream of blood from her body. Tavington was suspicious.

"Come here,"

"Oh I'd rather stay here thanks,"

He then walked towards her, angling around her in an attempt to get behind. She was having none of that and turned swiftly away with his advances. He shot out a hand to grab her, but quick reflexes allowed her to jump out of his reach. Tavington growled lowly in irritation.

"Damn it girl, stand still!" he had backed her into a corner of the tent; her shoulders slumped in defeat as he turned her around to see what she was looking at. "What is that? Is it blood?" He turned her back to face him.

"Yes its blood," she avoided eye contact as the comprehension slowly hit him.

"Oh…" no man had any experience in dealing with _that_ before. It was entirely women's business! It was hard to say who was the more embarrassed.

"I'll need some new attire. And something to… err…stop the flow,"

"Right. Yes," he went to the trunk and looking inside briefly before choosing a navy blue gown and a grey cloak. He then grabbed another smaller trunk that contained medicine, bandages and old rags. The dress and rags he handed to Caitlin and the cloak he threw over her shoulders to hide the stain. "Follow me,"

They left the tent and walked speedily through the campsite, Caitlin with some discomfort.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll have to wash the…blood from you. We're going to the river. And there will be no delinquency from you,"

Caitlin was deep in her mortification, dragging her feet as she walked.

_This type of situation would only happen to me_

…


	9. Chapter 8

Tavington and Caitlin both walked in silence, embarrassed

**Chapter Eight**

Tavington and Caitlin walked in silence; Caitlin stumbling as she tried to keep up with Tavington's military march through the forest. The silence only served to fuel the embarrassment that was suspended in the air. After a while they reached a slow-moving stream in a small clearing of lush grass and wildflowers. Caitlin would have thought it pretty had she not been so mortified. Tavington stopped and turned towards her, his eyes superciliously taking in her meagrely clad form.

"I will give you fifteen minutes to make yourself…decent. I request that there will be no disobedience. You are familiar with the consequences if you escape,"

Caitlin stuck out her tongue at him as he turned away to make himself comfortable on a fallen tree. Checking to see that he definitely wasn't watching, she removed the soiled dress and dunked it into the stream. With hurried, vigorous scrubbing she managed to get most of the stain out. Next were her white undergarments. She was uninclined to wash those as that would leave her completely exposed, at least until she was into the fresh underclothes. She didn't trust that he could keep those piercing eyes averted. But time was running out, so as quick as lightning, she changed into her new petticoats, tossing the dirty ones into the stream. She was only halfway through washing them when Tavington called out.

"Your time is up,"

She froze in her washing attempts, listening as his footsteps approached behind her. There was a charged pause; Caitlin could feel his eyes on her form as she perched by the stream with only thin white cotton separating her nakedness from his knife-like gaze. She placed the wet garments with the green dress on the grass and then stood up, still with her back to Tavington.

_It's only polite that he look away so that I can change properly_. With that thought, she spun around to face him, cheeks flushing from both discomfiture and annoyance but was shocked to find him only inches away, holding the navy dress over his arm. She endeavoured to back away but reached the edge of the stream and became imbalanced. Tavington dropped the dress and grasped her arms, pulling her away from the edge. Caitlin crashed into his broad chest, instantly wishing that she had fallen into the water instead. It was much preferable to the uncomfortable closeness of him; the heat from his body dangerously beguiling. She could the vibrations of his soft laughter as he held her still.

"Clumsy aren't we?"

She tried to shove him away with all her strength but was no match against him; he enjoyed watching her squirm as she knew all too well. Tavington clenched her arms even tighter.

"Let me _make myself decent_ sir," Caitlin said through gritted teeth.

"Of course," he stepped back and picked up the dropped dress for her, holding it out so that she had to reach for it. Cautiously she raised her hand to take it. But Tavington wasn't going to let her get away that easily. He dropped the dress and took her wrist, pulling her close so that she was against him yet again. Crying out in fury, Caitlin raised a hand to strike him in the face, but he grabbed it with his other hand, pulling it down with ease.

"I told you I liked my hostages feisty," he murmured into her golden hair. He crushed himself to her petite figure, trapping her arms between them.

"I ask you to let me go now!"

"Ask, or beg?"

Caitlin would not stoop to his level of pettiness, so remained silent yet deeply enraged. He reached down and traced the curve of her cheek with his hand. His touch sent a not unpleasant shiver down her spine. Tavington noticed this which made his mouth twitch wickedly. Her reaction encouraged him to trace the soft curve of her lips, causing her to sigh involuntarily.

_Stop it Caitlin!_ She chided herself and willing her body to resist his advances. She snapped at his roaming fingers, yet it only made him laugh again. _He is so annoying!_

His hand was at her hair now, teasing out the knots. While he was distracted, Caitlin lifted her foot and stomped with all her might onto the colonel's leather boot. It only served to make him pay attention rather than cause any significant harm. His hands followed the curve of her hips and waist; beneath the thin cotton fabric they felt cool to the touch.

"I ask you to keep your hands to yourself butcher,"

This irritated him a little.

"I'll be interested to see how you manage to stop me,"

"Is that a threat?"

His hands found the sides of her face. He leant down and whispered in her ear

"Only if you want it to be,"

Before she could protest he forced his lips onto hers, bruising them in his enthusiasm. Caitlin instantly froze, her hands at his chest attempting to push him away. All of a sudden his kiss changed rhythm. Instead of being hurried and forced it became gentle, probing, encouraging her to respond. Caitlin's head swam with mixed feelings.

_I shouldn't want this! I shouldn't even enjoy this! _ But her emotional barriers could take only so much beating and she gave into the colonels kisses. Her hands traced the hard muscles in his arms; she struggled to keep standing. Tavington compressed her body closer to his so that every part of her was touching him. She felt that at the same time he was pulling her too close yet not close enough. She managed to catch her breath as he began follow the contour of her collarbone with his lips.

"No," she warned, breathless. She could feel him slipping the strap from her chemise to expose her shoulder. "No…"

"Oh most certainly yes," he murmured against her bare skin. His mouth had found hers again, undeterred by her weak protests. As she felt him endeavour to remove her chemise she bit him on the lips, hard. She heard him growl but he did not release her.

"That was rather harsh," he glared at her, his lips battered from her attack.

"And rather necessary. You go to far colonel,"

This made him smirk.

"From what I could gather, you seemed to enjoy it,"

His closeness made her muddled, his masculine scent confusing her train of thought.

"I…you…wait," she struggled to find a retort but sighed, admitting defeat. She couldn't deny that she did not enjoy it, her flushed face and thumping heartbeat was testament of that. Tavington took that as his consent and gathered her easily in his arms. She did not have the resolve to object as she no longer had control over her body. He reached the centre of the clearing, placed her gently onto the soft green grass and knelt beside her, leaning over so that his face hovered inches from her glowing one. His piercing blue eyes searched hers. Caitlin merely blinked languidly and waited for his next move. Still looking into her eyes, Tavington moved his hands down her thighs, down until they reached the end of her skirt. He began to slowly push it up.

The sound of a pistol shot not to far from where they lay cracked through the air, startling them both. Tavington immediately sprang up, reaching for his own pistol that was fastened at his hip.

"Stay here," he ordered Caitlin before sprinting off into the woods.

"Well where else was I about to go, dressed like this?" Caitlin felt a little discontented. She sat up and felt her bruised lips, wondering how far she would have let the colonel go in his conquest. She was a modest girl and had her morals; loosing her virginity in the 18th century was not on her plan of things to do before she turned eighteen. She stood up and walked over to pick up the blue dress, but the sound of a stick snapping made her pause. Heart hammering, she turned around quickly, hoping that Tavington had returned. But the shape that approached her was not Tavington, but it was not entirely foreign.

"Caitlin?" a familiar, soft yet sure voice called out. Caitlin stared as the figure of Benjamin Martin approached her hurriedly. He reached her and grasped her by the shoulders as if she would run away. "Are you alright?"

Nodding her head, Caitlin managed to mutter an unintelligible reply. The situation was beginning to become overwhelming for her. First she was all but sexually molested by the colonel and now Benjamin was standing before her, looking a little rough for wear, but still the same kind, patient surrogate father that she had grown to depend on. The last she had seen of him was in the forest when they had parted during the ambush of the Green Dragoons. Suddenly she remembered.

"Gabriel? Did you rescue him?"

"We did. And the children are safe with their Aunt Charlotte,"

Caitlin sighed with relief.

"Are you here with anyone?"

Caitlin was about to reply, but the sound of footsteps approaching cut her off.

"The colonel! He'll be back any minute now!"

With that statement Benjamin took Caitlin by the hand and they began to run, away from the clearing and away from Tavington as he made his return. Caitlin looked behind her briefly and was relieved to see that Tavington had not yet reached the clearing. She wouldn't know how to react if he had seen her escaping, the conflicting emotions regarding her desire for the colonel and her loyalty to Benjamin would bewilder her state of mind.

… … … … … …

As Tavington approached the clearing, he knew instantly that something was amiss. His instincts were proved to be correct as he found Caitlin to be missing from where he left her in the middle of the grass. This angered him greatly.

_The little minx probably escaped with the rebels _he concluded. This thought only angered him more and he took the pistol from its holster and fired it into the nearest tree. The bullet rebounded, grazing his arm as he leapt to the side away from its destructive path. Yes, he really had to gain control over the renowned temper that was so well known in the Tavington family.

Nothing infuriated him more than to have someone disobey his commands. And by an impertinent girl at that! She was aware of the consequences if she got away, and by God he would stand by his plan. The girl was going to pay for her disrespect, even if it took him the entire war to find her.

…


End file.
